Intrigue
by Isolith
Summary: Spying on a certain captain has become Andy Flynn's new favorite pastime hobby.


**A/N: **I had a weird image of Flynn sneaking around trying to spy on Raydor; and thus this fic was born. I kinda liked it as a whole fic in itself so I decided not to divide it into chapters – bit of a long read though =) plus fluffy fluffy (just in case you're worried about angst) ;)

**-o-**

**/Puzzle/**

Something about her fascinated him to no end, something that was beyond his deduction, something foreign and strange that made him want to know everything about her.

He knew next to nothing about her - maybe that was why he felt intrigued by her on some level. He only knew what circulated around the rumor mill – interoffice resentment and pride coloring it; he only knew what he tried to gleam from her behavior. It was not much; there was only so much you could deduct from her police persona. Maybe that was the reason he felt drawn to figure her out, felt pulled into a spin that revolved around trying to put pieces together and figure out the puzzle. Her existence felt like a big jigsaw puzzle to him.

He was oddly curious about her, he realized, curious beyond reason. Naturally he found himself paying closer attention to her, analyzing and trying to comprehend what made her tick so to speak – enjoying all those little moments where he could spy on her, all those small moments that found little tidbits of information about her to be revealed.

**/Feta/**

The first time it happened, it was quite innocent. It happened by default really.

He was in the cafeteria, down on the second floor of the LAPD building, balancing a tray and trying to pick out a salad for himself; it was a paperwork day – dull and bleak. He was looking over the assortments of salad leaves when a voice drew his attention. He found himself wincing the moment he recognized the voice as belonging to her; it was quite distinct. He turned his head around, ready to glare hard at her.

She was balancing a tray as well while holding a phone to her ear. She looked unlike herself, he mused, wearing a soft faraway smile. Her voice sounded unlike her as well; soft and sweet.

"_Honey,_" she cooed into her phone, her eyes going from a bowl of cucumbers to one of carrots. He watched her ladle carrots unto her plate. "_There's no need to be nervous._"

She nodded while the person on the phone spoke; pilling beans onto her plate now. He watched her from the other side of the salad bar; she had yet to look up and notice him. She was in a dark skirt and a lavender blouse; her badge visible on her hip. She seemed tall he reflected; and without seeing her footwear he knew she was wearing her usual high-heeled spectacle.

Reputation alone had not prepared him for the first time he saw her saunter around a crime scene, heels sleek and high, a black trench coat snug and looking expensive. He had not expected her to be impeccably dressed, had not expected her to enveloped in a façade of collected serenity that bordered on superiority. He had not expected her to be so pulled together, not a single hair in disorder – it had been somewhat disconcerting. It had been 3 am in the morning and she had looked ready for the catwalk; it had wrecked with his mind as he had tried to suppress a yawn. Immaculate was not an adjective used when people gossiped about her; it should be he amended.

Funny thing though; he had a hard time imagining her in any capacity as a police officer – the elegant clothes seemed unsuitable and her high heels had him wondering how she ran let alone walked for hours at a scene. But then again he imagined there was not a lot of running in IA – imagined the possibility of blood splatter ruining her expensive outfits was next to nil; that would account for her fancy wardrobe. That and the grapevine had her loaded beyond imagination; rumor had her coming from some fancy old bloodline of lawyers.

He appreciated her wardrobe nonetheless; despite knowing it was far from practical in their line of work. He had always had a thing for watching women strutting around in heels and the smooth backside of their calves visible to gaze at. He grinned to himself.

She balanced her tray on the bar and straightened an errant strand of hair. Tomatoes and olives joined her beans and carrots. His eyes riveted to her hair – perfectly arranged, gleaming. He liked the color; another characteristic that drew him even closer. It was one of the many descriptions that really set her apart from everyone else when it came to police gossip; he could not think of a single other woman in the force who had the same fiery tones of red. 'The devil chose the color' the guys from Narcotics used to joke – others blaming her bitchy attitude on it.

She laughed suddenly; uninhibited and with merriment. It surprised him; he was half afraid she had noticed him and was laughing at him. Only, it must've been something the other person said on the phone – she was still engrossed in the salad bar and her phone. He watched how her eyes crinkled – they seemed very different from her usual serene or annoyed look.

"_That, honey, is the reason I know you're mine._"

The person on the phone said something and she laughed again.

"_Please, no more worrying. It's going to be perfect._"

He found himself enticed by her voice. It was actually not that terrible; not when she spoke carelessly like now and had no clue he was eavesdropping. Then again he had never heard it in this pitch before. It was calm – so soft and unlike her usual hard or caustic tone.

"_Yes, I'm going to be on time,_" the voice was still soft but now inflected by a mock-disparaging tone. Whenever she came into major crimes in her investigative function he was struck by an intense feeling of something he couldn't exactly pinpoint; he wanted to throttle her sometimes – shake her a bit and yell in her face. Only, sometimes he found himself listening to her – and he found in those small moments he noticed the snarky inflection she used for humor; she was sarcastic in a fashion he felt compelled to applaud. Sometimes he caught himself thinking she really wasn't that different from him.

He watched her slab a whole lot of pesto on her plate, nearly drowning her salad in it. He tried to keep himself from smiling at the picture she presented; who knew the bitch from IA smothered her salads in pesto.

"_No matter what, honey – I promise. If I catch a case I'll put Davis on it._"

She looked approachable, the revelation suddenly seeming like a strange notion. She had never really seemed approachable before. Mostly, she seemed aloof and from another planet if not an entire different plane of existence. If he had no history with her – if he did not know her by name and reputation; he would have smiled at her and maybe even impressed himself into her space – tried to catch her eye.

She was actually beautiful – a smile playing at her lips, a glint in her eyes and completely unaware that he was looking at her.

"_Yes that one,_" she snorted now, paused and then grinned when she said; "_He's married._"

"_Mm-hmm._"

She hummed again, moved further down the bar sliding her tray with her. She stopped in front of a bowl with feta and started ladling on an outrageous amount of the cheese onto her plate.

He smiled to himself. Somehow she did not seem that intimidating wearing a soft smile, humming weird noises and scooping feta onto her salad.

"_Mm-hmm._"

He was sure it was her kid she was talking to; it would make sense. Only he had no clue how many kids she had – he had never really considered her as a mother. Maybe she was talking to her daughter. He tried to imagine a younger version of her – he smirked.

"_Can I help you Lieutenant?_"

The suddenly hard tone brought him out of his reverie. Her voice was nothing but firm now; her eyes were slightly narrowed as she looked directly at him, enquiring and condescending at the same time.

"_You're hogging the feta,_" he deadpanned, feeling slightly out of it having been caught staring at her.

She smiled; only it was that professional smile that in no way reached her eyes – cold and detached.

"_Here you go,_" she said silkily and moved her tray away from the bowl of feta.

"_Yes, yes,_" she spoke into her phone again, ignoring his presence again. "_Noo – not if I have anything to say about it. No._"

He tried to ignore her as well but she lingered in his mind the rest of the day.

There was something intriguing about her. Something enticing about her. Maybe it was the simple fact that he knew nothing at all about her.

He had to restrain himself from not pulling her file and read up on her. She would know, surely, if he out of the blue looked her up. Maybe he could do it next time she collided with major crimes; he would have an excuse then – a feeble one but an excuse nonetheless.

**/Wine/**

The next time it happened quite innocently as well - a surprise spying session being dumped into his lap out of the blue.

"_Damn,_" Provenza hissed at him, "_Of all the places, _she's_ gotta be here!_"

"_What?_" he asked around a mouthful of a veggie burger.

"_Shhh,_" Provenza shushed him, indicating a table two seats behind them. "_It's the witch,_" he then whispered.

Andy strained his neck and looked around the small little wall separating the two tables. Sure enough there she was, sitting elegantly and poised, perusing a menu card completely oblivious to the fact that Andy and Provenza was sitting right behind her and would be privy to anything she said or did.

He put a finger to his mouth indicating they be silent; he shared a knowing smile with Provenza who looked gleeful all of a sudden.

Across from her was a tall dark haired man. He looked to be in his early thirties, Andy surmised. Impeccably dressed as well, not a single hair out of place.

A lover?

Somehow the notion excited him, somehow he found himself paying closer attention to the man, scrutinizing him and wondering what the young man was doing with her.

He only had a view of her face and the top of her; she looked to be enveloped in a purple dress – a low neckline. He watched a gold pendant nesting between the top of her cleavage; she had never been this revealing in her clothes the times he had seen her before; of course she could not parade around in something that revealing at work. It excited him – the pale swell of breasts, rising and falling as she spoke.

"_I cannot possibly decide – what with all these greasy contraptions to choose from," _the words were derisive but her voice was soft – teasing.

"_Geez mom,_" the man huffed.

Definitely not a lover then.

His eyes riveted to the man again; suddenly seeing the small obvious signs of kinship. Really, the clothing should have been a dead giveaway. That and that delicate arched eyebrow the kid directed at his mother.

"_You know what; why don't you order for me._"

"_Sure – you want fries?_"

"_Mm-hmm_"

"_And wine?_"

"_Definitely honey_"

A waiter came and took their orders.

Andy watched mother and son; wondered where the kid got those almost black locks from – brown eyes very unlike the gray-green of the captain's. A black-haired brown-eyed father then? – a tall father definitely; the kid was towering in comparison with his mother. The captain was not that tall, he surmised, only she hid it well when she wore those ridiculous high heels. He looked under their table and sure enough, beneath the edges of the tablecloth he noticed the sweep of white ankles in heels that were – if possible – higher than what she normally wore.

The waiter came with a bottle of red wine.

Provenza ate a fry and looked questioningly at him; he shook his head.

He watched her clink her glass with her son's and both of them took a sip.

He looked away from them; popped a fry into his mouth, licking the salt off his fingers.

"_What a family,_" he mouthed to Provenza who nodded with a smirk.

His eyes riveted back to them; entranced by being able to scrutinize her without her knowing so. Being able to observe her so obviously out of her normal police persona – it was always difficult to imagine her as anything but Captain Raydor of IA. Sitting across from her son, dressed in something he would never had imagined her in; it was somehow both disconcerting and delectable.

"_What a ghastly show, huh! A potato could have done a more exciting dance,_" the kid said; his tone like a male version of hers – deeper but with the same inflection of words. It amused Andy.

"_Mm-hmm_," the captain hummed in agreement. Andy wondered why such a little noise, without a single word, could slip into his mind and invoke so much turmoil. He tried to hide a grin from Provenza; surely his partner would catch onto the fact he was imagining that hum in a more explicit scenario.

"_I cringed through the whole of act one,_" she said, the words somehow seeming soft with humor, "_I had to close my eyes through the second act. It was_ _like watching an accident happening before my eyes._"

The kid agreed.

"_Fancy,_" Provenza whispered to him and he had to hide another smile at the comment; he was sure she would notice the spying if he broke out in laughter.

"_So to celebrate horrifying performances; cheers,_" she tipped her wine glass.

"_Cheers, and happy birthday mom,_" the kid answered and he saw them once again clink their glasses.

They both laughed; after sipping their red wine – it struck him how alike their voices were even in laughter. He was a bit surprised the captain chose to celebrate her birthday here in this little restaurant; it was neither fancy nor famous – he would have thought she would have been able to get a table at some obscurely expensive novel place. Maybe it was a little secret pleasure of hers; getting greasy burgers at small places that were in no way a match with her clothes.

He knew he was judging her a bit; knew that clothes and money alone did not make her a rich snob; but somehow he was still surprised she was in this place of all places, at her birthday celebration nonetheless. He wondered how old she was; close to his age he imagined – only he really wanted to know exactly how close.

She laughed again; it was a low merry sound – so unlike her. Provenza arched an eyebrow; catching the wicked witch in laughter was new for the both of them. Andy smiled; he rather liked it – not that he would ever admit to it.

"_Good thing I ordered you an extra greasy burger,_" the kid teased, "_that way you cannot refuse drinking mojitos with me. Remember you promised you would go bar-hopping!_"

Andy watched her trying to contain a too wide smile but she failed. He realized she was actually beautiful when she smiled like that. The smiles she adorned in the capacity of work were never that genuine or wide. This was something entirely different. If she smiled at him like that he would be out of it, he thought.

"_Yes, I remember; why I ever agreed is beyond me however. Was I possibly sleepwalking when you asked me?"_

"_You brought it on yourself – lamenting about your pathetic sober birthday last year!" _

She smiled, _"You are the devil spawn, honey"_

"_I know," _the kid gave a cheeky smile.

Andy looked at his plate, trying to hide a smile; he imagined she rolled her eyes at her kid. He imagined the kid rolled his eyes right back at her.

"_We should get outrageously drunk, prank call Melina and tell her what a sourpuss she is,_" the kid said around another sip of wine.

The easy going conversation between the two seemed both strange and alluring; he had never really imagined her as a mother and he had never imagined her like this; so carefree and full of smiles and laughter. He wondered how she had been when the kid had been a toddler; would she have been different back then?

The captain laughed; again he was struck by how natural it seemed – it was absurd but she seemed like a different person. Maybe it was the whole setting; it was out of context. There was nothing to force him to remember she worked as a police officer; nothing to remind him that he was supposed to loathe her.

"_How the two of you can be so different will always be beyond me_," she said in a huff.

"_I tend to reason she's got dad's sense of humor_"

"_Oh woe_"

"_Indeed_"

They clinked their glasses again.

"_Dry like vermouth_," the kid laughed.

"_Bland, really_"

Their food arrived.

Provenza popped another fry into his mouth; he seemed somehow to be enjoying this as well. Maybe he was hoping for something discriminate they could use on her next time she popped up in their murder room; Andy wouldn't mind either. Knowing just a little bit more about her would even the score; she knew practically everything about him, he was sure. She had investigated him after the whole spectacle with Zuman and that would have been impossible without reading his personal jacket; she would know everything about him – from his divorce to how many years he had been sober. It seemed somehow unfair; he knew so little about her.

Spying on her seemed justified somehow.

He watched her cutting out of piece of her burger with knife and fork; it did not surprise him when her kid mirrored her moves and went about eating his burger and fries with utensils. Again he was struck by the thought that those two really did not belong in this place; they seemed misplaced.

"_Have you talked to your sister lately?_" she asked her son.

"_Nah,_" he answered around a mouthful of fries.

He watched her eyebrows knit together; whether at her son talking with his mouth full of food or at her son not talking to his sister Andy was not sure.

"_She's busy – doing whatever it is she does,_" the kid explained.

"_Hmm_," the captain hummed.

"_Trouble in the family,_" he whispered to Provenza who nodded.

"_She called last week_," the captain said, "_sounded a little hysteric._"

The kid hummed, "_When is she not!_"

"_Shush – be nice to your sister,_" she admonished but it was said with a slight smile.

"_I talked to_ Greg_ yesterday though._"

"_How is my elusive separated husband?_"

"_Loving the busy life, I'd imagine._"

Andy watched them, intrigued. He knew she was separated; it was one of those details that people always jumped unto in all their gossip about her. Somehow it seemed an important little fact to everyone who found FID annoying; the wicked witch was separated somehow seemed like an obvious conclusion. Only; he found it odd she was separated but not divorced. There was a very clear distinction between those two; what did separated mean in her case?

"_Apparently Dad wanted to hear about Christmas, must've thought I would be easier to talk to than Melina or you._"

She hummed in reply; looking just a slight tad miffed – he caught a glimpse of captain Raydor in her eyes for the first time this evening.

"_I thought about quitting Christmas this year though," _the kid said, giving his mother a small pout that looked amusing on a grown man's face.

"_Oh I like the sound of that,_" she said; surprising Andy once again. He would have imagined she would have answered differently.

"_Really?_" the kid looked dubious.

"_Yeah; let's just go somewhere – you and me._"

"_Seriously._"

She sighed, popped a fry onto her fork and bit half of it.

"_I wouldn't mind just going away – Melina's going to San Diego. I absolutely refuse to partake in the spectacle that was last year,_" she sipped her wine and looked at her son.

"_Perfect, mom. You can sit somewhere on a beach and get drunk; I'll be off gallivanting._"

She laughed.

"_Deal. I'll get a tan and you can find a nice girl_," she prodded with a smile.

Her son rolled his eyes but countered with a sassy smile, "_Find you a nice old dude – in a nice Hawaii shirt._"

"_I resent that._"

"_What – old guy? You want a young one, huh?_"

She grinned.

"_No, I resent Hawaii shirts._"

"_Right – I'll find you one with a fashion sense then._"

They both laughed.

Andy watched Provenza roll his eyes. A waiter came to their own table, cleared their dishes. Provenza asked for the bill. Andy watched as the captain suddenly heard the familiar voice; he watched as she turned around and directed an odd look their way.

He gave a little wave and grinned.

He got a miniscule smile in return and a wave that looked nothing like a greeting but more like a fanning notion that were meant to make them disappear.

He grinned wider; arched an eyebrow as he and Provenza went by their table and he had a more promising view of her dress and the revealing neckline. He knew she caught onto where his stare was directed; he did not mind – knew it would fluster her.

He saw the kid arch an enquiring eyebrow; heard her mumble of '_idiots_' following him out of the restaurant.

He smiled.

**/Sex/ **

"_I had a good time last night,_" she whispered into her phone, her voice low and infected by something he had never heard in her voice before; something that tingled his skin and coiled in his spine. He held his breath, feeling a slight twinge of anticipation curl through him and something that had a flavor of something darker.

He should have left the moment he watched her slide through the exit door to the staircase; only he felt compelled to linger and eavesdrop on her. He stood up on the next landing, her voice clear in the deserted stairwell. When he leaned out over the railing he was able to watch her without being seen, the crown of her hair seeming even redder in the warm light. It was styled differently than he was used to, somehow seeming to be even more flawless than usual.

This was beyond spying by default now; only it did not bother him that much. He wanted to stay; wanted to stay in this little strange world where she was so different from her usual steel and stone self; this strange little world where her voice had turned into a seductress.

"_Mmm-hmm_," she hummed and it was unlike any hum he had ever heard from her; it was somehow liquid and slid beneath his skin in a single tone. God; how she managed to make her voice capable of so many different personas was beyond him; how a noise could leave her lips and be disdain personified one moment and the next it was so soft and velvety he had a hard time swallowing.

He caught himself cataloguing the different tones when he found her speaking now, trying to catch a new pitch. He was aware of his little obsession, knew to some extent it was far from healthy. But she was an enigma, waiting to be unraveled and figured out. He never could deny a mystery, never could withstand the pull of trying to figure out the whole picture when someone left him clues here and there.

He looked over the railing again; she was dressed in a black pantsuit – a navy blue blouse underneath the jacket. Her trademark black heels were visible beneath the edge of her pants; he looked closer – nope, new ones. He smirked, louboutins definitely. But what surprised him even more was the small necklace; she usually never wore that much jewelry at work; maybe a couple of earrings but that was it.

She laughed and he quickly stepped a little back, trying to keep quiet, trying to breathe in a non-conspicuous fashion.

"_You are impossible,_" he heard the smile in her voice.

"_Yees,_" she drew the word out into a long syllable.

"_Maybe a bit,_" she giggled.

He leaned over the railing again; sure he misheard her giggling. But no, he watched her profile and the wide smile on her lips – her eyes warm as they seemed to look beyond the exit sign above the door.

He had never heard her giggle before; it seemed so alien associated with her, like a thing beyond her existence. He liked the sound of it; it sounded genuine even if he had never thought about how her giggles would sound like. He wondered what she would do if she caught him snooping; he half wished she would look up and catch his gaze – would she suddenly turn into a very annoyed Captain Raydor or would she flush a red color and look bashful.

"_Tonight? No plans,_" she spoke, her voice sounded practically giddy coming from her, "_Mm-hm; I would love that._"

There was no mistaking her voice; there was no possible way to mistake her tone or her whole demeanor for anything other than simply flirty. He smiled at the thought of her like this, curling a strand of her own hair around a finger and talking secretly with a lover on the phone. It amused him as much as it exhilarated him.

"_Oh – you know me too well._"

She giggled again.

She listened to the other person on the phone, shook her head in an amused display of bewilderment.

"_I'll hold you to that._"

He smiled; if others heard her like this they would assume she had gone mad.

"_Yes, sir_," she flirted; there was no other word for it – her voice was flirty.

"_I'll see you._"

She ended the conversation and he watched bemused the smile playing at her lips, how her eyes seemed very far away, glittering behind her spectacles. She seemed to be in her own little world and he found it a very captivating one.

Before long however, she schooled her features; he watched how she suddenly became inscrutable, her infamous captain mask on – watched as she glided out of the door again.

He stood on the stairs for a bit before he moved, entranced by her. Entranced by the image of her doing something few imagined she had; a life outside work.

He began walking down the stairs but stopped when suddenly the door into the staircase opened and she stepped though again.

She stopped as well, surprise in the depths of her eyes, her fingers looking ready to dial a number on her phone.

"_Lieutenant,_" her voice sounded breathy; surprised as well.

He smiled at her, somehow this was priceless. There was no mistaken it; by the faint color suddenly appearing on her cheeks and the way she seemed to fiddle with her pockets, her phone being dumped into one of them.

"_Captain,_" he greeted her, his voice low.

He walked past her, trying very hard not to smile too knowingly at her, trying not to look too obviously at her.

She stepped aside for him and he walked through the door.

He was sure he heard a small sigh just before the door closed behind him.

**/Covet/**

She seemed to be everywhere he turned his head, invading their murder room – invading his space; always somehow standing behind one of them with a question or two. It annoyed him to no end, annoyed the rest of the squad. Why was she so intent on digging into the whole blasted thing anyway? God forbid, a murderer had died. God forbid, she should play nice.

One night he pulled her file up on his computer screen; she had been on his heel all day spewing questions left and right, following him wherever he went – those hard eyes narrowed at him, caustic tones thrown back into his face whenever he replied with a dry comment or two. He had watched the chief beginning to appear more and more dismayed at the presence of the captain; he was annoyed to no end as well – felt ready to strangle her or something equally violent.

He felt spiteful and vindictive; so he pulled her personal file, looking surreptitiously over his shoulder before he began to peruse it for information. She was three years younger than him – joined the force two years after him – had taken maternity leave twice. Separated for what seemed like a lifetime; it surprised him even further. What could possibly be the reason for being separated for so long and not instead just get divorced; it was beyond him. There was nothing in her file about the elusive husband however; it disappointed him.

He read through all the boring stuff that usually filled out a personal file; fitness reports and evaluations, promotions and outstanding cases – really it was the standard that were in everyone's files.

His eyes widened slightly when he came across a juvenile record; it was sealed. He cursed; of course it was sealed. Maybe one of his old buddies from robbery/homicide would know what to do – he couldn't ask Mike even if he was nifty on a computer; he did not want to land the rest of the squad in trouble. He was about to scroll further down only he stopped realizing someone was standing over his shoulder, looking at the computer screen as well.

The person coughed next to his ear and he was assaulted by a scent that was very much feminine – a distinct presence. This was not good.

"_See something interesting, lieutenant?_" her voice bore an undertone of something sweet; too sugary to be taken as anything but dangerous.

He felt instantly alert to the point of a little fearful; he turned his head and watched as she slid along his desk and sat on it, her legs elegantly crossed and a very gleeful smirk plastered on her mouth as she regarded him with an arched eyebrow. Oh, he had stepped in it – screwed it up big time.

Somehow the mischievous glint in her eyes bore more promise of danger than had she been royally pissed. Somehow it did not surprise him that she appeared amused; she had a very peculiar tendency to do what he least expected of her – he had thought she would be livid with anger, he would have thought she would be pissed at finding him going through her personal jacket. But she only seemed amused at the notion. He thought maybe he preferred her angry.

She was wearing a black skirt and his eyes latched onto her bare legs, further exposed in her sitting position on his desk – somehow it seemed shorter than what she normally wore. He wasn't sure; maybe his eyes caught onto the promiscuous sight of her bare legs inches away from him just because she was so close, appraised the sight since she considered him with something he was entirely too unsure of. She was appraising him as well, he realized, her eyes lingering on him in what would have been appreciation in any other woman's look – only it was her and alas he never knew when it came to her.

He smirked; maybe this was not as bad as he had imagined. It was not an everyday occurrence seeing her poised on his desk, looking amused and inviting; at least not in reality. If only he knew her better he would know whether to tread lightly or to throw caution to the wind.

He gave her a cheeky grin, tilted his head as he let his eyes linger on her form, purposefully enjoying having her this close, purposefully letting her know he was not intimidated by her; at least not when she chose to plant herself in front of him like this.

"_You always struck me as too curious for your own good,_" she said, her voice light, almost a teasing quality to it, "_I could have you written up for this, you know._"

He leaned back in his chair, tried to adopt an apologetic attitude, "_Look, I'm sorry."_ She looked unconvinced. He grimaced; she was right – he was not in the slightest sorry._ "You've been nothing but a bitch today_;_ in my face – it tends to piss me off,_" his voice sounded gruff but at least she seemed to take in his words. She did not even seem to be flustered by them; if he had to guess at anything he would say she looked pleased. Damn, that woman confused him no matter what.

"_You have so little control you cannot ignore me?_" she inquired with another arch of her eyebrow.

"_Kinda hard when you've practically been glued to my ass,_" he kept his voice rough.

"_I wouldn't be '_glued to your ass'_, Lieutenant,_" she retorted, "_if you would just answer my questions._"

He suddenly grinned even wider, leaned forward, "_Say it again._"

"_Pardon?_"

"_Glued to your ass – it sounded practically sinful coming from you._"

She rolled her eyes, seeming to regard him derisively – only he caught onto the small upturn of her lips, the barely glint of humor in her eyes. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again; he immediately caught unto the sight of her skirt inching a bit higher up her thighs, baring more skin.

He had a strange thought that this was a very peculiar notion of foreplay. That maybe this game had gotten slightly out of hand.

"_So, what do you want to know?_" she asked him, her mouth crooked in a half indulgent smile.

"_Whaddaya mean?_"

"_What has you so enthralled with curiosity that you felt compelled to pull my personal file, lieutenant?_"

It felt like a trap of some sort; surely she would in the next second bring out a gun and shoot him between the eyes – surely she was not this nonchalant about this transgression. Surely; how he answered would determine whether she filed a report against him or not. Only, her small indulgent smile did seem genuine. Only; he felt too captivated by whatever this had turned into – he did not want to end it.

"_What's with the juvenile record?_"

She cocked her head to the side, gave him a smile that seemed too sincere to trust; "_Long story, lieutenant. I'm sure you were young once – back when you had color in that hair, huh._"

He tried to keep his mouth closed; it always seemed to overwhelm him when she made a joke.

"_You know everything about me,_" he countered, "_I wanted to even the score._"

She looked confused.

"_You read my whole jacket, remember,_" he elaborated.

She nodded, "_Oh that; well there's really nothing personal in it is there. I mean I have no clue who you are; aside from the fact that you used to collect excessive force complaints like no one else._"

"_You think I'm a brute, don't you?_" he asked her, catching onto her slight inflection of sarcasm.

"_A bit forceful, yes._"

He crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair.

"_I'm no more aggressive than you, captain._"

"_Yes, I know – wicked witch,"_ she pointed at herself with a self-placating smile.

"_Why did you join the force?_" he asked her, genuine interest.

She smiled, "_A long story as well; why I would invite you out for a drink and we could bond about our life's choices – only that is not possible, is it._"

She leaned closer, her teeth bared in a smile that was indeed nothing but a trap; deceitful. It did not bother him; if anything he felt compelled to somehow topple her from whatever pedestal of collected calm she was sitting atop. Abruptly he stood up, enjoying the wide look of surprise in the depths of her eyes as he leaned into her space, his hands firmly placed on either side of her thighs.

"_Invite me along; I can manage watching you drink without feeling tempted,_" he told her with a smirk. "_I'll help you home if you end up drinking too much. I'll even tell you a story or two, huh._"

He had never been this close to her before; if he leant further towards her he would end up kissing her – he would end up being sued he thought with a smile. He would end up with a bloody nose he was sure. Somehow it amused him.

Her smile had gone; was replaced by something that did not bode well for him, something that reminded him of the dark of night.

"_Lieutenant,_" her voice was low, throaty as her hand grasped around his tie and brought him even further towards her. For a split second he thought she was going to kiss him; only she surpassed his lips and instead slid long his cheek – lips soft. "_You are nothing but trouble_," she whispered into his ear, her hand tightening around his tie, "_I would tread careful if I were you._"

Her knee pushed into his thigh, pushed his body back and she stood up, coming to stand in front of him. Her hand was still clutching his tie but her lips had left his ear;

"_Stop whatever little game you have going; really I'm not that fascinating._"

The glint was back in her eyes; of course she would know he was paying extra attention to everything she did. Of course she would notice whenever he lingered in the background and kept an eye on her.

"_Oh, but you are immensely fascinating, captain_" he grinned at her.

She shook her head; then her eyes hardened; "_For future reference; I would appreciate it if you had questions you ask me, lieutenant. But feel free to read the rest of my file; it's really rather boring._"

He gave a small nod, watched as she smoothed her skirt down.

She patted his shoulder, "_Goodnight._"

She left. He watched her disappear; her slight swaying hips and the red hair that seemed darker at night.

He grinned and rested his eyes on his computer screen again, ready to read the rest of her file – even if it was boring and completely useless.

**/Gun/**

You would think he would tread carefully around her now; only he felt compelled to do the opposite; it felt like an obligation really – it felt like a dare. He had never been good with orders like that; he had always felt slightly rebellious when people told him what he could or couldn't do. She had practically dared him, he thought with a dark grin.

She had become an almost constant presence in their squadroom. She seemed to be around every corner he turned, somehow always standing in his way. He enjoyed it too much, he tried to reproach himself but he could not manage to do anything serious about it. He enjoyed it too much. Why, today she wore a black pantsuit and high heels that made her legs look indecently long; she was a sight much more appreciated than the sour look of gloom on Provenza's face or the annoyed slightly frantic look on his chief's.

He would adopt a grumpy look as well when she came parading through but he would always catch her eye and arch an eyebrow, smirk in her direction. Ready, set – whatever little game they had going starting.

She smirked back; checkmate.

"_Been practicing your target shooting lately?_" he asked her, strolling up to the murder board, standing next to her – the small red bean bag visible in his hands as he fiddled with it.

Her eyes went straight to his hands and her bean bag, a smile he had yet to decipher on her face. He was becoming better and better at deciphering the spectrum of her many small smiles but there was still so many that left him bewildered; so many that left him with a feeling of ambiguity. This seemed to be one of them; a smile that seemed to contradict itself – sly yet hesitant.

She looked up from his hands, her eyes twinkling, "_You impressed?_"

He tilted his head, out of the corner of his eyes he watched as Provenza left the squadroom giving them a weird look. The chief was busy in her office talking with her husband. No one was really paying them that much attention.

"_Oh yeah; who were you imagining shooting?_" he paused as he stepped further into her space, "_Me?_"

"_I wasn't aiming for his crotch now was I,_" she retorted in a dry tone as her eyes crinkled at him.

"_Ouch,_" he stepped back a bit, raising his hands in mock-surrender.

She took a step towards him however, her smile becoming more and more smug. He would never admit it, but he liked it when she put her nose in the air and regarded everything with an air of superiority.

"_You can join me on the shooting range one day, Lieutenant – I'll teach you how to aim,_" she whispered as she leaned further towards him, tilting her head to look him in the eye. Her voice was bold, her eyes defiant.

"_I have perfect aim,_" he retorted back in a gruff voice but belied it by leaning towards her as well.

"_Mm-hmm – I am sure,_" she replied, an arched eyebrow considering him.

He arched an eyebrow as well; her voice was just on the border of something untoward, low and soft.

"_Flynn, you coming?_" Provenza half yelled, his voice annoyed. He looked over his shoulder; his partner stood with arms crossed observing him and the captain.

"_You better run along,_" she said and shooed him away with a hand motion, her eyes light with laughter, "_Before the old grouch has a tantrum._"

"_Catch you later, captain,_" he whispered to her and strode away.

**/Purple/**

He liked her in purple; not that he would ever say it out aloud. But he could admit it to himself whenever he found himself watching her more closely, whenever she happened to be wearing the color. He liked her in many other colors as well; he grinned.

He liked observing her interacting with other people – it was easier to catalogue small nuances of her then. It was easier to observe her, noticing small things here and there. He found she tended to be awkward when she was surprised or flustered; somehow her hands had a mind of their own and a tendency to flit around in patterns he had no clue what was about. At first glance you wouldn't think she ever behaved in an awkward fashion; at first glance she seemed poised and graceful. Only, he caught her in small moments of quirky little ticks. He was not sure the others caught onto it; it felt like a secret he shared with himself.

He found her humor to be something acquired; the others did not have a clue he reflected. But she was funny; not in an obvious fashion. It was inconspicuous and not something palpable; however he noticed. She might have a penchant for knowing the rule book from start to end so to speak but what escaped most people; she actually was a funny person. At least he thought so; but maybe he was slightly biased seeing he had become busy with interpreting every little thing she did.

He tagged along with her and Liz, the dog dragging them through the park. He tried to appear somewhat annoyed at poop-duty but he had a hard time keeping himself from visibly ogling her. Evidently he was doing a poor job for she glanced behind her every now and then, her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. He gave her a wide smile in return.

Both women stopped suddenly and he joined them; her eyes bore into him. Apparently she would rather he walk with them than behind them. Liz smiled at him none the wiser about the subtext.

The dog dragged Liz toward a bush; they stood on gravel and watched, side by side.

"_Poop adventure, who'd ever imagined_," he commented.

"_She seems so nice,_" she replied, ignoring his comment, "_why ever would she have been – you know?_"

"_Married to Provenza! Beats me._"

"_Mm-hmm._"

He looked sideways, her eyes seemed far away.

"_What's your husband like?_" he asked her, her eyes caught onto his immediately, a look that was anything but friendly.

"_Far away,_" she stated, once again ignoring him – her eyes staring in the direction of Liz and Frank.

He nodded.

"_You never considered divorcing him?_"

"_Lines, lieutenant – you're crossing them,_" she retorted, her voice sharp.

"_Curiosity, Cap't._"

"_You sure have a lot of it._"

"_You're all mystery._"

"_Not really._"

"_He's in prison?_ _Gay_? _Too religious?_"

Her head turned again, this time her eyes wide for a small second before they narrowed.

He would never admit it but he liked getting her riled up; it was easy once you knew which buttons to push. He liked it more when she pushed back; all set on riling him up as well.

"_What made you start drinking?_" she asked him, her voice soft on the surface but poison beneath.

He gave her a noncommittal shrug.

"_What made you stop again?_" she continued, then paused; "_You see, lieutenant, curiosity is not a one-way street._"

He gave her a smile.

"_Why are you so intent on - _" she paused as she seemed to be looking for a word.

He interrupted her; "_I want to invite you out._"

Again a wide-eyed look in his direction; then a small smile.

"_You have a very - um circumventing way of showing interest._"

He tilted his head, "_I'm interested_."

She smiled but never answered him, her eyes once again going in the direction of Provenza's ex-wife and the infamous dog.

"_Why?_" she asked and he detected a note of uncertainty in her voice. She kept her gaze on anything but him really.

"_I like crossing lines_," he answered, averting his gaze from her, trying to not appear too smug.

"_Oh, I've noticed_," she replied.

"_We are not in the same chain of command,_" he told her.

"_Well no, but I'm in FID; people hold me to a higher standard than you could ever imagine,_" she countered.

"_I've never cared much for what other's think._"

This time she gave him a look; amused he gathered from the arched eyebrow, "_I've gathered that, lieutenant_." He noticed the inflection she put on his rank.

He leaned into her space, "_You are not that afar from me in rank_," he whispered conspiratorially.

"_I never said that was a problem,_" she whispered back, her voice equally light.

"_So that's a yes?_" he enquired.

She rolled her eyes.

"_Yes._"

He smiled.

She smiled back.

Liz yelled something happily and they both strode over.

**/Takeover/**

There had never really been time to take her out; somehow everything had collided from that day and had gone downhill. In hindsight; he should just have shown up on her doorstep and dragged her with him; he should just have ignored the whole mess with major crimes and the chief. But it had been too intense at the time to consider dating. It was too late now.

He watched her through the curtains into the former office of Chief Johnson; now belonging to her. He watched her caught in between a livid feeling of anger and something he couldn't discern. Anger was always easy to differentiate from everything else; it was familiar and had a certain vibration in his skin. She couldn't have taken one little second to inform him of her impending promotion? Really; it burned searing hot inside him.

On the other hand he felt sad; she was not going to cross that line now he knew. She was back to cordial professionalism; maybe even going for a friendly smile – and he just felt cheated. She had taken over everything; his squad, his heart.

Maybe, he amended – maybe it was fortunate that it had never gone beyond the lines; maybe it would have been even more difficult then. Yes; it would have been much worse then. He could still watch her; he tried to cheer himself up. He could observe her as much as he wanted now. He could observe her in an entire new environment.

She still intrigued him; beyond whatever need he had for letting anger take over within him. She seemed so lonesome here; solitaire against the camaraderie of the rest of them. He felt compelled to draw her into the warm feeling of belonging in a team. He felt compelled to show up on her doorstep, invite her out – despite the obvious disregard of the chain in command.

She would decline he knew – somehow it only intrigued him further. Somehow rejection did not frighten him that much; somehow he had a small inkling it would be a hesitant rejection; one that bore a promise of 'maybe' in the future.

In the end he decided it was better to be patient; after all he had waited years – what was a few more. He grinned as he watched her look up, catching his stare from her office. She gave a tentative smile back.

Maybe life had to settle again; maybe when everything felt in balance once again she would be approachable.

He gathered trust was at the essence of everything; she did not particularly trust them and they did not particularly trust her.

She had no reason to trust him; he figured. The hothead lieutenant who liked to look down her blouse; he grinned in spite of himself. He could amend it; it might take a little time – but he could fix it.

**/Puzzle/**

Patience got the better of him.

He leant down and kissed her, full on the lips – hand splayed on one hip, the other going for the back of her head. It really did not surprise him when she kissed him back, her fingers soft on his shoulders.

"_Took you long enough,_" she retorted when they broke apart, her voice feeling warm.

He arched an eyebrow.

"_Congratulation,_" he replied, paused and then added in a lowered voice, "_Commander._"

Her lips parted in a wide smug smile.

He leant down again; intent on not wasting another second on not kissing her.

He smiled into it, their lips soft against each other.

He still knew next to nothing about her; she had a tendency for evading his questions whenever he started probing into her past – a knack for never giving him anything but a secretive smile.

It did not really bother him; he knew what was important.

**-o-**


End file.
